


Hold My Hand

by Swanny_Writer



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Clueless Jun, Dorky and Soft WonHui, Fluff, M/M, Teasing but Sweet Wonwoo, bc it'd be really bad if i screw up on his birthday week XD, in honor of Jun's birthday week i have attempted to write in his POV, it was hard lol, with any luck it comes out all right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanny_Writer/pseuds/Swanny_Writer
Summary: Jun is terrified of walking back to the dorms at night, so he sticks close to the only person on the same road. One night, he gets a little too close.(Or the one where WonHui flirt on their way home from night class).





	Hold My Hand

The three hour long class comes to an end. Zippers closing and laptops sliding into sleeves accompany the clamor of voices, echoing off of the walls of the lecture hall. Junhui stuffs his notebook into his bag and stands up, swinging it over his shoulder as he waits for the people in his row to move. He shuffles behind the throng toward the exit.

It’s cold, he notices, as the wind hits his face. Shivering, he pulls his hoodie over his hair and starts heading back to his dorm. White fog curls in thick wisps around his feet, rolling over the grass lawn and paved sidewalk. The yellow street lights do very little to disperse the darkness of the gloomy night. Lifting his head skyward, he can glimpse at a sliver of the moon slowly eaten up by the black clouds. He hopes it won’t rain. He hasn’t brought his umbrella, and the ten minute walk from here to the dorms is plenty of time to get soaked to the bone.

Around him, the crowd of students progressively dwindles as he travels farther and farther away from University Center. Most of the student housing is on the North side of campus. It’s closer to everything that matters: classes, restaurants, coffee shops, the main libraries. Unfortunately for him, he lives in the South dorms. Normally, he loves it despite the walking distance, because the size of the rooms compensate for it. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays, he hates the trek with ardor. 

Especially when it’s this creepy.

Who even holds class this late at night, anyway? And why does he even need take Sociology in order to graduate? He’s a Human Bio major.

Too distracted by his inner monologue, he doesn’t notice when the group of three people in front of him a moment ago disappears. Now it’s just him.

Him and the guy in the gray hoodie and black beanie a dozen feet ahead.

Junhui doesn’t know Jeon Wonwoo. Okay, so that’s not really accurate. He knows _of_ him. Like how Wonwoo is also a third year student, and that they’ve been in a few classes together. Wonwoo is a Physics major; Junhui knows, because during introductions at Freshman Orientation, he made a mental note that Jeon Wonwoo must be a masochist for it. 

This year, he discovered that they actually live in the same vicinity, since they always share the path every week after the Sociology class. Sometimes they exchange nods or wave hello, but mostly they keep to themselves. Wonwoo is very serious and quiet, and a little intimidating. Junhui knows that Wonwoo isn’t always stoic and expressionless, though, since he’s caught him smiling a few times at whichever novel he’s reading that day. The smiles are tiny, hardly noticeable, but there nevertheless. And every time he sees one, Junhui feels like he just witnessed something rare and precious.

A sharp gust of wind slices over his cheeks, and he scrunches up his shoulders in response. A large building starts to loom over them: the Muir complex. Junhui walks a little faster to decrease the distance between him and Wonwoo. He hates this building, whether it be rain or shine. In the day, it’s nearly impossible to find the right classroom because of the overgrown trees and vines crawling everywhere, blocking off signs and walls. He’s gotten lost more than enough to last him a lifetime. At night, thanks to the jungle, the lights are basically nonexistent. He wouldn't be surprised if one day, the authorities find stashed bodies in there. In a word: creepy. 

Junhui doesn’t want to say he’s scared— 

Something like a warbled cry tears through the silence of the night.

_Okay, never mind. He’s scared._  

Why did he let Soonyoung persuade him into listening in on the haunting rumors about this place? he asks himself as he quickens his pace, walking right by Wonwoo’s elbow now. The latter doesn’t seem the least bit disturbed by the creepy sound. Either he has an incredible (and foolish) sense of courage, or he has zero sense of self-preservation. Junhui is uncertain which is worse.

Just as he’s rationalized that the sound was just the wind or some sort of animal, he hears it again. It’s closer this time. Or so it seems, no thanks to these walls distorting the wail. He presses his lips together to keep his own panicked voice from leaking out.

Is it a ghost? A banshee? _Are they going to die?! Why isn’t Wonwoo reacting?!_

Junhui’s stomach is in knots, and he reaches a hand up to his bottom lip, tugging at it as his eyes dart left and right through the hazy lights. 

_Mwuahhh!_

Junhui jumps, letting out a tiny yelp, as he grabs onto the nearest object by reflex. Which happens to be Wonwoo’s hand. 

Because the terrified student chose to face death with his eyes screwed shut, he doesn’t see the amused look his peer is throwing his way. Nor does he notice that Wonwoo has stopped walking. Junhui is shivering like a leaf caught in a storm. His entire body is curled around Wonwoo’s arm for dear life, fingers digging into the fabric of the other’s jacket. He doesn’t register any of that until he feels a gentle, somewhat cool, touch patting the back of his hand.

_What’s happening? Is the Grim Reaper petting his hand to try to lead him to the Underworld?_

_Snap out of it, Jun!_

Slowly cracking his eyes open, he registers his current (embarrassing) position clinging to a classmate he barely even spoke to until tonight. The guy is staring down at him, tiny smirk tugging a corner of his mouth upward. They’re too close. Junhui can smell his cologne and a whiff of shampoo. _Oh dear god._ Now he actually wants the banshee or whatever lives under the three levels of the building to come and kill him.

“Are you all right?” Wonwoo asks. His voice is so deep and warm at the same time, Junhui feels it surround him like a soft blanket. That’s also when he realizes he’s been staring at the dude like an utter idiot for the past, oh maybe… _whole minute!_

“S-sorry,” he stammers, cheeks aflame. “I, uh…” he clears his throat, gradually disentangling his fingers from around the other’s arm and hand. His joints feel stiff. How hard did he grip his hand? Are Wonwoo’s fingers broken? “I’m fine,” he mumbles, averting his gaze to anywhere but Wonwoo’s patient and bemused expression. “I just got startled.”

“By the ghost?”

He whips his head around so fast, he’s getting whiplash. His eyes bulge out. “There’s a ghost?” his voice squeaks, and he can feel the blood draining from his face.

Wonwoo, instead of feeling sorry for dropping that bomb on him, actually laughs. His nose crinkles up, and Junhui feels temporarily distracted. This might the first time he’s seen him show any sort of emotion besides slight contentment or displeasure from reading books. If he thought those tiny smiles and frowns were rare, this full on grin was like seeing the lost city of Atlantis.

Once Wonwoo has calmed down, he shakes his head. “No clue. But I’m pretty sure that wailing is actually the generator,” he says, waving in the general direction that Junhui doesn’t bother following. “The orientation leaders showed it to us freshman year.”

“Oh.” Junhui does not remember such thing. But then again, he had been way too overwhelmed on his first week of college to recall much, especially trivial fun facts about the school. 

Logical explanation aside, now he feels even more dumb for jumping out of his skin and grabbing onto his peer. Can the Grim Reaper come now? Can he be summoned by sheer will?

“Come on, let’s go. It’s freezing.”

At Wonwoo’s voice cutting through his attempt at calling the Lord of Death, he glances over, just in time to see the latter hook their arms together. _What is happening?_ Before he gets any sort of explanation, Wonwoo leads him away toward their dorms. 

They don’t speak for a minute or two. Plenty of time for Junhui’s mind to go insane and for his insides to turn into goo. He breathes in through his nose, hoping the chilling air filling his lungs will help him ignore the warmth that seeps through their sleeves and into his skin. It doesn’t work very well.

“Um,” he starts sheepishly, prompting Wonwoo look over. Keeping his eyes straight forward, he continues, “Thanks for walking with me.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees the other smiling. “No problem.” It’s too dark for Junhui to see the teasing glint that quickly appears in his companion’s eyes, so he is completely taken by surprise when the latter goes on, “Couldn’t ignore a damsel in distress.”

Junhui stiffens, turning to his side. He is definitely bristling at the joke. “I am not a damsel in distress,” he enunciates with emphasis. “I was just startled.”

“By a generator,” Wonwoo snickers.

“I didn’t know that!”

Shooting him a smug grin, Wonwoo remarks, “Well, now you do, and I don’t see you walking alone in the dark.” He jiggles their linked arms, raising a brow.

“I am not a damsel in distress,” Junhui repeats, then proceeds to pout and look away, which only makes his companion's grin widen as he watches the sulking boy.

He stares at Junhui openly, more amused by the second. Granted, they’ve never really interacted much before, but from the few run-ins and classes together, Wonwoo finds him endearing in an awkward and dorky way. There’s something very sweet about someone who’s honest to a fault, carefree and unassuming. It makes teasing him all the more fun.

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says with a shrug.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Junhui asks, “Why?”

“Because then I’d get to play the knight in shining armor.”

Junhui chokes on his own spit. A rush of emotions washes over him, leaving behind rosy cheeks and a thousand butterflies in his belly. He sputters for a suitable reply, but nothing comes to mind. All the blood has left his brain to stain his face permanently. Not even the icy wind can cool him down. “Y-you can’t just say that.”

“Why not?” comes the immediate reply.

This is not enough time for Junhui to think. It doesn’t help that Wonwoo’s stupidly good-looking face is smirking at him, challenging him to keep up the banter. _What is this?_ With a sudden start, Junhui peeks at the other boy. He’s not… flirting, is he? 

Junhui’s always been proud to call himself smooth and suave (when he was ready to act it out), so this should be easy as pie, right?

Nope. Why? Because it’s freakin’ Jeon Wonwoo, and Junhui has no idea what he’s doing, or how they’ve come to this weird bantering ground. Whatever. The guy is probably just having the time of his life poking fun at scaredy-cat Wen Junhui. It’s not like Wonwoo’s serious or actually likes him like that anyway. 

“Because most people would see it as flirting.”

Another nonchalant shrug. “Is that illegal?”

Junhui did not expect that response. Wonwoo’s not even denying that he’s flirting. For the nth time tonight… _What is happening?_

“Well, no…” Junhui finds himself responding slowly, head tilting side to side, teeth chewing his lip. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Wonwoo retorts, steady gaze flickering between Junhui’s lips and his eyes. 

_The problem is that it’s making my heart flutter like crazy, and I’m going to choke on the damn butterflies in my stomach._

“It’s not a problem per se,” Junhui says aloud, stalling for him to think because honestly, who even asks that sort of question? “But it can become the root of misunderstandings?” It wasn’t his intent on making the statement sound like a question, but the squeak of his voice just made it so. He hopes Wonwoo won’t notice.

He notices.

“Are you asking me?” his companion laughs. Junhui melts a little more. 

When Junhui merely makes a face and provides no reply, Wonwoo pokes at his arm.

“What kind of misunderstandings are you thinking about?”

Junhui mulls it over as he pulls his free hand out his pocket to tug at his lip. “Like…” His heart is pounding too hard. He can’t bring himself to say it. “Like, how—you know what I mean.”

Wonwoo laughs again, clearly having fun at poor Junhui’s distress. Or so the latter thinks, anyway. “What? That I might like you or something?”

Junhui’s heart stops. A chill rolls down his back. He can’t breathe. _This is it. This is how he’s gonna go._ Too petrified to look or answer, he strains his eyes to the front, only too happy that his legs are continuing to march forward, albeit robotically, but it’s better than dropping to the ground and dragging Wonwoo down with him.

Thankfully for Junhui, his dorm building comes into view at long last. It’s like a vision from the heavens. A refuge from the storm of emotions that’s swirling inside of him. He can almost hear the angels harmonizing.

With lightning speed, he removes his arm from Wonwoo’s grasp, turns around without making eye contact and proclaims, “Thank you so much for walking me back!” as fast as he can manage. The words kind of smudge together, but he hopes Wonwoo understands him anyway. Then before the latter can say anything else, Junhui races inside the building, leaving behind a stunned, but more than amused Wonwoo staring after him.

 

“Dude, are you okay?” Soonyoung asks with slight trepidation from the couch, laptop balanced on his knee.

Closing the door of the suite, Junhui falls back against it and slowly lets gravity pull him down to the floor. He sits with his long legs sprawled out in front of him, chest heaving. He nods, panting for a few seconds. 

After his less than remarkable goodbye to Wonwoo, he had sprinted through the lobby and bypassed the perfectly working elevator to the stairs. Why? Because on the very possible chance that it takes the elevator more than three seconds to arrive, he would risk Wonwoo walking in after him and ask what his deal is. So he decided that dashing up three flights of stairs without pause was the better alternative.

Jihoon walks out of the kitchen and throws him a water bottle. “Were you chased by the monsters of the Muir building?” he mocks.

Gulping down the water, the brunet makes a strangled sound. He wipes the mouth with the back of his hand. “No.” Then he points accusingly at Soonyoung. “You knew those weird sounds come from the generator, didn’t you?”

His roommate doesn’t look the least bit apologetic as his concern turns into delight, his eyes squinting into slits. “Sorry, Junnie.”

“So what got you running like a maniac?” the music major wants to know. “More than usual, anyway.” 

Junhui groans as he slips even further down until his entire body is flat on the floor. He stares up at the popcorn ceiling, feeling the coldness of the titles gradually making its way through the layers of his clothes. “Jeon Wonwoo.”

He receives very different questions that fit perfectly with his friends’ personalities.

Count on Jihoon to be logical. “The guy in our World Music class last quarter? What about him?”

And on Soonyoung to be dramatic. “He looks kinda scary. Did he try to mug you?”

Without moving to address them, Junhui talks to the ceiling, his mind replaying the past fifteen minutes. “No. He was very nice.”

“Then why the hell did you run away from a nice person?”

“I know you lack the necessary social skills sometimes,” Soonyoung points out, “But in most cases, people _like_ nice people.”

Their comments are met with a groan. He decides to answer Jihoon and ignore Soonyoung. “Because he made me feel funny. And I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Due to the way he’s positioned, he doesn’t see his friends exchanging quirked brows. He does, however, notice them in his periphery when they come to sit on either side of his head, leaning against the door. He stares at them upside down.

“Define funny,” Soonyoung suggests, waving a hand around.

Groaning from the sheer memory, he presses his hands over his face to hide. His voice comes out muffled, but his friends are adept at understanding Junhui-ese. “We’re in the same night class, right? So we’re walking back, and we passed by the Muir building. No thanks to you, when the generator kicked in and wailed, I got startled and grabbed onto his arm.”

Soonyoung bursts into laughter then, and only stops when Jihoon swats his arm to shut up.

Junhui goes on seamlessly. “Instead of pushing me away, he walked back with me… with our arms linked.”

“Wow.”

Jihoon is unimpressed. “Is that it?”

  _I wish_. “No.” He sighs. “I think he was flirting with me.”

“And so your solution is to run away?” He doesn’t need to see him to know Jihoon rolls his eyes. 

“I panicked, okay!” He lets out a whine, and receives a sympathetic pat on the stomach from his left, so it must be Soonyoung. “When’s the deadline for dropping classes?”

Jihoon scoffs. “You can’t just drop the class, which you need to graduate, just because you don’t want to run into him.”

“Why not?”

“You’re such an idiot,” the shorter boy sighs, but there’s no real malice inflected, and so Junhui ignores it. 

He does not ignore Soonyoung’s mocking sing-song, though. “Someone’s got a crush—Ow!” The dance major throws him a hurtful look as he rubs his side where Junhui jabbed him.

 

______________________________

 

 

Against his better judgment, Junhui stays in the class. Come Thursday, he is hyperaware of the boy in the black beanie sitting only a few seats away from him. His stomach does somersaults whenever he catches himself glancing that way, and he immediately straightens up in his seat. 

From his side of the room, Wonwoo manages to keep his smirks concealed behind his mastered expressionless mask. If Junhui bothered to look more than a nanosecond over at him, he would have noticed that Wonwoo is paying more attention to the nervous scaredy-cat than he does to the lecture slides. 

Just like always, the class drags on and on, but for once, Junhui’s actually grateful. All the more time to draw out the long way back to the dorms. And potentially putting him and Wonwoo on the same path. Alone. Just the thought of it makes his stomach drop. Yet it’s not enough to deter him from sneaking another peek at the beanie wearing, self-proclaimed knight in shining armor.

Slowly, he lets his gaze drift away from the screen to move to his left, skipping over the half-asleep students and youtube pages on open laptops. At last he arrives at Wonwoo’s row and seat. Only to see the other boy staring back at him. 

Junhui stills. His cheeks flush from having been caught staring.  

Arching a brow, one side of Wonwoo’s mouth lifts upward. He looks way too smug. And Junhui should hate it, but he doesn’t. His damn betraying body actually gets a thrill out of knowing that Wonwoo was watching him, too. 

This is not good. He needs to focus on class before he flunks it and has to retake it next quarter. So instead of acknowledging Wonwoo’s smirk (and the very high likelihood that he is crushing hard on his peer), he schools his expression into the most severe scowl he can manage, and turns swiftly around.

Wonwoo does his best to keep himself from laughing out loud, biting into his knuckles as he stares at the side of Junhui’s head. He figures the latter had tried to look angry or tough, but honestly, it resembles a cute pout more than anything else. 

As soon as class ends, Junhui shoves his notebook into his backpack and escapes out of the row before he even finishes up the zipper. He manages to squeeze and skip around the slower students to jump out into the walkway, beating the crowd toward the exit. If he manages to leave the lecture hall before Wonwoo, he figures he can probably sprint from here to the dorms in less than seven minutes without being seen, and saving his heart from its attempt at imitating bongos in his chest at the prospect of walking back alone with the guy again.

However, the universe hates him.

The moment he makes it out of the room and into the foyer, who does he run into but the very boy he’s trying to avoid… 

“Hey,” Wonwoo says casually. 

“Hello.” Junhui does his best to sound normal and not out of breath from merely being within a couple feet of him.

Flicking his head toward the door, the physics major asks, “Ready to go?”

“Huh?” It takes him a moment to calm his heart down so the rushing blood stops interfering with his hearing. “You’re walking me back?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “Sure. Unless…” He gives Junhui a quick glimpse, putting his hands into his jeans front pockets. “Unless you don’t want to.”

_This is it. This is his chance to decline politely and still remain perfectly normal._

“No, I do.” _Goddamnit, heart!_

As if conscious of his internal monologue, Wonwoo flashes him a pleased smile and pulls the door open for him to go first. He nods at the gesture, and the two set out. 

It’s not as cold today as on Tuesday, but Junhui still pulls his hood over his head and shoves his hands into his jacket. He walks quietly beside Wonwoo with enough space in between them that their arms wouldn’t come anywhere to touching. Junhui deludes himself that he’s okay with that arrangement. The sound of denim rubbing together, steady footsteps, and whispering trees surround them for a long time. In the distance, they can hear the soft chatter and laughter of their classmates, progressively getting quieter as they drift off in the opposite direction. The boys approach the hateful building, and Junhui reflexively tenses at its sight. 

Noticing the slight flinch and minute drooping of the broad shoulders, Wonwoo glances over in concern. “You’re really scared of this place, aren’t you?” His voice is soft and comforting, soothing Junhui’s frayed nerves somewhat.

“Yeah,” he manages to croak out. He feels Wonwoo’s gentle gaze. It’s questioning, but not probing. Patient. With a sigh, Junhui offers him a small smile. “It just reminds me of a bad experience that I’d managed to repress for the past fifteen years or so,” he lets out a wry laugh and shakes his head. 

Wonwoo urges him on with a simple look. One look, and it’s enough for him to feel a sense of calmness wash over him. Later, he’ll ponder the significance of it. But for now, he nods again and starts telling his companion why the noises are so terrifying to him.

“When I was little, I went on vacation with my cousin’s family once. It was supposed to be one weekend at the beach, staying at my aunt’s friend’s house. But when we got there, it wasn’t a house. It was like one of those creepy haunted manors.” At the memory, he shudders. 

“Anyway, it was super creepy. The rooms were never bright enough, shadows and creaking noises everywhere. There was another family staying there, with a kid a little older than me. We hit it off pretty well from the get-go, and I was actually starting to enjoy myself. One afternoon, we were playing some board game in his room, and his mom called him down for dinner. I told him I needed to go back to my aunt, too. And…” His memory gets a little fuzzy at this part, so he cocks his head to the side and bites his lip.

“I don’t know what he said, but suddenly, I was left alone in his room, with the door slamming in my face. I jiggled the knob, but it was locked from the outside, I guess. I banged on the door and shouted, but it didn’t open. As I stood there trying the knob again, this _awful_ sound appeared.” He waves a hand toward the building. “Kinda like that generator. Now I know it was probably the heater or something similar, but to a kindergartener locked in a dim room alone…” He glances up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze.

“That’s… terrible,” he winces sympathetically.

Junhui hums. “It took me a while to pinpoint why I was so scared of this building, but now I’m guessing that’s the root of the problem.” 

The storyteller isn’t sure if Wonwoo does it on purpose, or if his body moved without his full knowledge, but now their elbows are brushing against each other’s with every step they take. Junhui doesn’t point it out, nor does he move away.

Wonwoo glances sideways at the boy walking beside him, his gaze lingering over the sharp features of his face, illuminated by the moonlight. The somber and dejected emotions don’t fit him. There should be a bright grin where a frown sits; his eyes should sparkle animatedly. Most of all, Wonwoo’s used to seeing a tinge of pink dusting across his cheekbones, not the paleness that lingers beneath the surface.

On a bold move, he slides even closer, bumping their shoulders together. The nudge prompts the boy to look over, blinking rapidly. From his peripheral vision, the physics major sees they’re about to walk right by the Muir complex. And so like last time, he hooks his arm with Junhui’s. The latter takes a brief look at their linked elbows, then at the background. A thankful, but shy smile blooms on his face, and Wonwoo spies the tell-tale sign of a blush on the side of his face as he turns back to the road. _Much better_.

Once they’re far enough with the building behind them, Wonwoo speaks up. “What time’s your last class tomorrow?”

Junhui answers right away, “Humanities, at 3:30. Why?”

“I wanna show you something,” he says, grinning with just a hint of playfulness. 

“What’s that?” Curiosity killed the cat, but Junhui can’t help himself. There’s definitely excitement bubbling out of his voice, and no matter how much he tries, he knows there’s a stupid grin on his face, too.

But Wonwoo isn’t giving in. “Where’s the fun if I tell you now?” he teases. When Junhui pouts, he laughs and bumps their shoulders. “It’s something nice and fun, I promise.”

Junhui throws him a dubious look. “Well, as you now know, I have trust issues, so.” He pulls out his free hand from his pocket and extends his pinky out.

Wonwoo looks at the finger, quirking a brow, before focusing on Junhui again. “Really? You want to pinky swear?”

“Yes,” the other nods with conviction. “Or are you afraid because your intentions are impure?” 

“Impure?” he repeats with mock offense. “You make it sound like I’m going to murder you or something.”

A shrugs, followed by a giggle. “My roommate actually thought you tried to mug me on Tuesday night.”

“What?”

The indignant squawk causes Junhui to burst into laughter, only silenced by his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, I told him no, though.”

Now it’s Wonwoo’s turn to look skeptical. “Now I’m wondering in what kind of state you returned to your room…”

At the memory of their last goodbye, Junhui flushes again, and he wipes his smile right off of his face. Which of course, does not go unnoticed by his peer. 

“That reminds me…” he starts in a sickly sweet voice, his grip on Junhui’s arm tightening just enough to tell him he’s blocked any and all escape route. Well, unless Junhui plans on actually using violence, but he highly doubted that, so he goes on. “We never really finished our conversation last time.”

“I don’t remember,” the other claims immediately. Wonwoo snorts. “What?” Junhui turns to stare at him. 

“You know damn well we didn’t. By the time we got to your dorm, you clammed up and ran away.” 

Junhui bites his lip, pretending to be engrossed in his shoes. “T-there was nothing to say.”

“On the contrary,” Wonwoo interjects. “I think there’s plenty to say.”

Venturing a peek, the other asks, “Such as what?”

“You never confirmed what misunderstandings you were talking about,” he answers, mischievous. 

Junhui turns three shades redder. He needs to think fast, turn the situation around before he combusts on the spot and leaves Wonwoo with a pile of ashes on the concrete.

“Tell me where you’re taking me tomorrow,” he suggests quickly.

Wonwoo narrows his eyes, but there’s a smirk hanging on his lips. He clicks his tongue. As he stares at Junhui evenly, he seems to be debating the pros and cons of the reveal. In the end, he relents with a sigh. “The Muir Building.”

“What?” Junhui isn’t sure what he expected—who was he kidding? He was totally hoping for a date—but it was definitely not that. “There’s nothing but classrooms buried in the unruly forest.”

Wonwoo cracks a grin. “Or so you think.”

With furrowed brows, Junhui gazes at him, head cocked to the side. “What else is there? Skeletons?”

“Not telling,” he sing-songs, laughing when the other pouts. “You’ll just have to see tomorrow.” 

The brunet is less than satisfied by that response, but excitement still rushes through his veins at the prospect of seeing Wonwoo tomorrow, instead of waiting until next week. “Okay, fine.”

“Great.” Wonwoo grins in satisfaction, noticing them coming up to Junhui’s dorms. They stop in front of lobby, and he turns to face him, holding out his pinky. “I’ll meet you outside of Center Hall after class.”

Giggling, Junhui nods and puts his pinky out to hook it around Wonwoo’s. “See you tomorrow.”

 

______________________________

 

At the entrance of the stairs leading to the lower levels, Junhui hesitates, partially burying his face into the scarf around his neck. Just because it’s daylight doesn’t make the complex any less intimidating. Especially since Wonwoo insisted that what he wanted to show him was on the very bottom floor. 

His guide for the afternoon has already taken a few steps down the flight when he notices that Junhui isn’t following. Turning over his shoulder, he offers a smile and reaches up to tug on his wrist. 

“I promised—pinky swore, remember?” he says gently. “It’ll be fun.”

Junhui nods stiffly and lets himself be led along, eventually walking beside Wonwoo instead of lingering behind. His heart is hammering in his chest with every step they take, but he’s uncertain whether it’s from the location or the slight coldness of Wonwoo’s fingers around his wrist. 

Gradually, the comforting sunlight is left behind, replaced by the hazy and orange glow of the ceiling lamps. Their purpose seems more focused on keeping people from walking into walls than actually illuminating the path. The first floor below ground isn’t too bad. Junhui’s had a couple discussion sessions here. As long as it’s still day out, you can navigate your way pretty easily. The trees haven’t completely swallowed up the pillars. Unlike the second floor, which they quickly visit in order to find the final staircase leading to the very last level. The temperature is definitely colder down here, a lot draftier. The smell of chlorophyll and dirt permeates the air, coalescing with the ringing of the generator. It’s debatable whether it’s not making his skin crawl because of the time of day, or because he’s walking with Wonwoo.  

His guide finds his way easily despite the overhanging vines, not needing to read the faded signs as he walks with confidence down the corridor. They reach a set of double doors, where the blasted generator is probably kept, if judging by the increase in volume.

“I figured it might ease your mind if you see it with your own eyes,” Wonwoo says, cracking the door open. The hinges squeak briefly, and Junhui pokes his head through the gap.

Sure enough. There’s nothing but the machine, churning out that weird wailing sound. The machine and trash littering the ground.

“Why is there so much trash?” Junhui wonders, pulling his head out and closing the door. “I can’t imagine that many people coming here.”

Wonwoo laughs, scratching his ear as he turns away. “Guess some people are turned on by the atmosphere.”

Junhui makes a face, double-checking their surrounding. “Right… Nothing says romance like the set of a horror movie,” he mutters, sarcasm thick in his voice.

“I should’ve figured you don’t like horror,” his companion teases.

“But you do, don’t you,” Junhui states. 

Wonwoo hums in confirmation. “Nothing like a good thriller to get your blood pumping.”

Narrowing his eyes, Junhui fixes the latter with an accusing look. “Were you referring to yourself earlier…?” Then his eyes widen. “Is that why you’re so familiar with the routes down here?”

“What?” Wonwoo blinks. “You think I make out with people down here?”

“Do you?”

“No!”

Junhui shrugs, but inside he feels relieved. “Okay. So…" He swings his arms back and forth as he surveys the hallway. "Not that I’m ungrateful, but showing me the generator is more like comforting. Not exactly nice or fun.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Because it’s not. We haven’t been there yet. Come on.” Taking Junhui’s wrist, he takes him down yet another corridor.

After a couple minutes of turns and twists, they arrive at another door. He sure hopes Wonwoo knows his way out of this maze. Junhui did not plan on getting stuck in the basement of the Muir complex this afternoon, nor become the first ghost to haunt the building.

“This is why I’m familiar with the lower levels,” Wonwoo tells him, breaking into his thoughts. “I spent most of my free time during first year trying to find this room.”

“What’s in it?”

With a excited smile, Wonwoo yanks on the handle and shows him.

Junhui’s mouth falls open, and he hears the indistinct chuckle coming from his companion. But he’s too distracted by the sight in front of him. The room isn’t large, but every square inch of it is filled up with doodles and writing. There’s so many art styles overlapping each other, normally it would look chaotic and frenzied, yet somehow, each drawing and painting comes together in harmony. It’s very strange how the colors are so pleasing to the eye.

Dazedly, Junhui walks in. Unlike the rest of the building, this room actually has working lights. It’s bright and allows him to see every stroke, read every word of poetry. Idly, he does wonder how people have been able to reach the ceiling. Maybe they were like the new generation of the great painters of the past, laying flat on their backs to paint entire murals.

“This is amazing,” he breathes out in awe, face close to the walls to examine the tiny drawings in between the larger ones. “What is this? Why is it here?”

“It’s kind of like a secret of the school,” Wonwoo explains. “I think it originated when a group of art students snuck in and decided to turn it into their final project. Later on, by word of mouth, more students tried to find it and leave their marks. Since it’s not easy to find—none of the school’s maps show this room’s existence—it sort became like a challenge to find it.”

“And you did it,” Junhui grins, turning over his shoulder. “Thanks for showing me.”

Wonwoo returns the gesture. “You’re welcome.” He lets Junhui wander around the small room for a few minutes, absorbing the images and words of the years passed. Once the bio major returns to his side, he hands him a Sharpie. “We’re here. Might as well, right?”

Junhui laughs and nods, taking the marker. He scans the once white walls for a spot. At last, he moves into the far corner, where there’s about a two inch square of blank canvas. Thanks to their height, they’re able to reach it easily. Wonwoo watches over Junhui’s shoulder as he uncaps the marker and starts to draw.

Once he’s done, he grins with pride and meets Wonwoo’s gaze. The latter can’t help chuckling as he leans forward. Junhui sucks in a breath at the new proximity of their faces, but he’s not backing away.

“Is that supposed to be us?” the physics major asks, studying the two doodled cats holding hands.

“Maybe,” the other replies shortly, but from this distance, Wonwoo can clearly see the blush on his cheeks.

Cracking a smile, he plucks the marker of his hand and adds in a few details. To the cat on the right, he draws in a scarf and a little crown between its ears. As for the one on the left, it’s given a beanie and a sword.

Junhui giggles at the new accessories.  

But Wonwoo isn’t done. At their feet, he writes in their initials and today’s date. His gaze locks with Junhui’s as he grins. “What do you think?”

“Cute,” Junhui answers with a sheepish smile. His heart is beating so fast, he’s afraid Wonwoo might be able to hear it thanks to the muted silence of the room. He tries to help calm himself down with a joke, “Is this the modern equivalent of carving your initials in a tree trunk?” 

Because Wonwoo enjoys watching the rose blush bloom on the other’s cheeks almost more than the boy himself, he smirks. “You know people only do that with people they like, right?”

Just like he expects, Junhui turns bright red. Doe eyes widen in shock, and full lips part. 

Junhui’s heart is on the brink of exploding, he knows it. No matter how much he forces his body to obey, he can’t take in any air. He feels lightheaded. Did Wonwoo just say what he thinks he did? Did he imply… Junhui swallows thickly. 

Wonwoo’s attention flickers between the pink lips to the large eyes. “I don’t think there’s much room for misunderstanding,” he states. And for the first time, Junhui spies a light layer of rouge creeping up from his throat to his cheeks.

Surprisingly, that gives him confidence. Wonwoo isn’t as composed as he’s made him out to be, and that prompts Junhui to gather what little courage he currently held to nod, bringing them close until their foreheads are touching. There are matching shy smiles dancing on their faces.

“I never thought one day would come that I’d feel grateful to the Muir complex,” Junhui says, voice lowered as he bites his lip.

Wonwoo chuckles, hand lightly grazing the other boy’s. “Now that you know there’s no ghost, do you still want to hold my hand?”

Giggling, Junhui turns his hand to lace their fingers together. He squeezes the cool digits affectionately. When he nods, the tips of their noses brush against each other’s, eliciting quiet laughs. “Of course,” Junhui affirms. 

 

______________________________

 

From that day onward, Junhui comes to realize that he doesn’t hate Tuesday and Thursday nights anymore. In fact, he looks forward to them with great enthusiasm. Something Jihoon doesn’t quiet understand, considering the amount of time Junhui and Wonwoo already spend together on the daily. The former has contemplating explaining, but in the end, he thinks some things are best kept secret. Like a certain doodle in the far corner of a hidden room three floors below ground.

Just like the cats in their doodle, the boys have continued to hold hands, regardless of the time of day or activity.

Now on their biweekly way back from the Sociology class, the Muir complex no longer makes Junhui shudder. 

Wonwoo has taken on that job ever since he’s started pressing Junhui against the housing building after their walk to kiss him goodnight. And that, Junhui doesn’t mind at all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First helloooooo! Second, I'd like to pat myself on the back for my impeccable timing lol. We just had WonHui holding hands IRL after #DontWannaCry3rdWin, and I swear I did not plan it out haha. 
> 
> Anyway, first time writing from Jun's POV (mainly), and it was... hard. Why, Jun, why??? But was it ok? I hope so... 
> 
> Someone asked me to write something for Jun's birthday, and I am working on it. I just can't promise it'll come out on the 10th bc my brain is fickle AF. But it will be out... eventually. In the meantime, there's this XD
> 
> Bonus: My attempt at copying Jun's doodles. XD I realize why i'm a writer and not an artist. Kudos to all you with talent! *\\(^_^)/*
> 
> [Click!](http://applewoodprincess.tumblr.com/post/161560209473/hold-my-hand)


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